


Lights Out

by gotophergophergo



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, jeanmarco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:49:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotophergophergo/pseuds/gotophergophergo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU! Jean is a senior in high school with few friends and little patience to make any. Lately he has been having some weird dreams and the sudden appearance of a tall freckled boy who seems to link up to his dream makes him question himself and what he might want out of this budding friendship. This is my first fic! Con-Crit is welcomed! Let me know how to improve!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first work on this site and it is also my first fanfiction. Con-Crit is welcome! Enjoy!  
> Lots of love!

The world swam in Jean's vision for a moment. A pair of brown eyes shivered into existence and instantly his body shuddered to life beneath him. Dark lashes framed the small ponds of the warmest honey brown that he could have dredged up from the bottom of his imagination. He wanted to crawl into them and stay forever. Another ripple in the existence around him enveloped him in warmth. The kind of warmth you get on a cold winter morning while nestled deep beneath the covers. The kind that makes you wish you never had to move from its comfort. In all of this he was vaguely aware of the tightness growing just below his stomach. A subtle tension that seemed to gently overtake and envelope him in something Jean could only think of as ecstasy. He reveled in it as his body felt like it burned from some kind of odd inner fire that he assumed to originate somewhere behind his navel and radiate out to his finger tips, the back of his neck, his lower back, his toes, his-

Jean sat straight up in bed, sweat pouring down his face, panic sliding off of him like water, as his alarm screeched 7:00 am. It took Jean a few minutes to establish where he was, his eyes scanning the messy room. His jeans from yesterday sat on the floor next to the blue striped comforter that was only half way on the bed at this point. Not far from that was his favorite shirt. It was a red and grey crew neck that was vintage soft. The hem was nearly worn out of the bottom and it had a few blood stains near the neck line but he refused to give it up. The clothing was nestled among bits and pieces of paper and other trash. Action figures and collectible figurines lined shelves that were shoved full with comic books and notebooks. His walls were covered in posters of several different kinds, mostly of punk bands. He had gone through a phase several years ago and had never bothered removing them once his tastes had changed. He merely covered up the old with the new leaving the walls more messy than they truly should have been.

His desk was in equal disarray. His current notebook, a black and white composition book covered in sharpie and rock band stickers was left open revealing his chicken scratch to the dusty ceiling above. His plate and cup from last night's dinner sat not far from that in the midst of his scattered pile of differently colored ink pens and markers. He had been doing what he always did before bed. Journaling. Jean had always had a problem controlling his temper and it had not gotten any better when he entered middle school and met the most annoying kid of all time. He and Eren Jaeger had fought more times than he could count before his mother insisted on him going to counseling. The talking sessions helped little but when the counselor suggested writing, he found he honestly liked it. Venting with no one to ever judge him. No one to take someone elses side. Jean was now starting his senior year of high school and he had yet to leave his composition book at home for a single day since he had started. Last night, he had been in the middle of a big rant on how much Eren really, truly sucked when he had suddenly become overwhelmed with fatigue, crawled into bed, set his alarm, and... and...

And fallen into that weird dream that always made him wake up with the biggest boner. It was the most annoying thing in the entire world, even worse than Eren. "Fucking seriously? What the hell is wrong with me?" He ran a hand through his bleached hair, pushing it back and away from his sweat drenched forehead and laid back on the sheets, his hand instinctively sliding down his stomach to attempt to relieve the discomfort. His fingers slid past the elastic waistband of his black boxers as he slung his left arm over his eyes and he bit his lower lip, that pair of welcoming brown eyes swimming into his field of vision again just for a moment.

This had become a morning routine for the last few weeks. Nothing had ever been this persistent. Without fail, he woke up in the same predicament. What was more annoying is that he had no idea what had triggered the strange dream and why he ended up jacking off thinking about those damn eyes every morning. It was maddening. He just couldn't place them.

"JEAN! YOU ARE GOING TO BE LATE!" The yell pulled Jean from his reverie. "GET UP, NOW! DO NOT MAKE ME COME UP THERE!"

"JESUS, MOM! FINE! I'M UP!" He grumbled as he reluctantly tugged his hand back out of the band and slid from the bed finding his legs less than stable. This was not the first time he had been interrupted, of course. He shuffled through the littered floor, kicking a dirty shirt and a pair of basketball shorts out of the way and into the bathroom where he cringed as he flipped on the light. He took one look at himself in the mirror and cringed. The dark circles under his eyes weren't too deep, but he still hated seeing them. Not to mention the obvious tent in his boxers. He groaned quietly to himself, stripping off what little clothing he had on and dropped it on the ground as he turned on the water for his shower.

It only took him a few moments to fumble around, awkwardly washing all the important bits and dousing himself in icy water. He shambled back out, grabbing the previously used towel from the rack and rubbing himself dry. A short time later, he was dressed and brushing out his hair, which really just did what it wanted to anyway. When he felt that he was done he took another look at himself in the mirror, studying his reflection. His black shirt was a simple cut, without any logos. It sported several small holes in the left sleeve, probably from hitting the ground during a fight. His jeans were medium wash and pretty torn up, not to mention just a little too loose. He had owned them for a while now, so when he had slimmed a little in the last year or so, gaining more muscle as he grew, they had began to slide down more and more. His leather studded belt was essential in keeping them in place now. He hated the feeling that his pants could slide off at any moment. He just couldn't understand walking around perpetually asking to be pantsed. He wouldn't put anything past the practical jokers at school, especially not Connie and Sasha. They were famous for making everyone into an ass with little to no effort, themselves included. His ears had several piercings, the bottommost having a slight gauge. He could not quite remember how big, but he was pretty sure the last size he remembered buying were sixes. They were just small white tigers eye plugs, nothing fancy or flashy. The others were normal studs, with the exception of the industrial on his left side. His parents had not been pleased about that one at all. Deeming himself presentable after a few more minutes of scrutiny he stepped back into his room to tug on his nearly worn out red converse, that were now more brown than red. He had just grabbed his journal and stuffed it into his bag when his mother called up the stairs again.

"JEAN!"

"CHILL OUT, MOM! I AM COMING!" Hastily sweeping a handful of pens and markers into his bag, he slung it onto his back and jogged out his room and down the stairs just in time for his mother to thrust a brown bag at his head and hurry him out the front door as the bus turned around the corner. He cursed under his breath at seeing the big yellow-orange behemoth. He swore there was not another senior in the whole damned school who had to ride the fucking bus. His Mom said he wasn't responsible enough to drive to school yet. With a regretful look over his shoulder at the black and chrome '67 T-top corvette sitting in the driveway that would be his after graduation, he hurried to the end of his driveway, not willing to deal with the rage his mother would spit at him if he missed the cheesewagon again.


	2. Chapter 2

The bus was hot, even though it was a fall morning. Jean had a fairly early stop on the route and therefore got to pick his seat. He hated having to share bus seats, so of course he had picked the single seat in the very back. He plopped down on the dirty brown fake leather and tugged his head phones from a side pocket on his bag. Popping the ear buds into his ears, he hit play, allowing the noise to drown out the roar of the bus engine.

Jean had a habit of ignoring everyone on the bus. No one important ever rode the bus to school, at least not anyone that was a junior or better. Most people had friends that they could guilt into coming to pick them up in the morning if they did not have wheels of their own. No one this year was older than sixteen. He was less than interested and refused to waste his time acknowledging their existence. Just as the heavy drums of the Foo Fighter's Everlong started up Jean noticed that the bus was slowing in a different spot than normal. He looked up from tracing the graffiti with his fingers on the back of the seat in front of him just in time to see a smiling dark haired boy climb the stairs. Jean had never seen him before. A smattering of freckles covered his checks and he was wearing a white jacket with an odd logo on it. It looked like a shield with two blunt swords crossed over the front.

Suddenly, Jean felt his stomach hit the floor. The boy had caught his gaze and given him a friendly smile. It was true enough that Jean was not used that kind of greeting from anyone, but that wasn't what had his stomach trying to do a series of back flips. As the boy came closer, Jean felt his toes curling up in the tips of his shoes and allowed himself to attempt to slowly sink into the corner.

Of course the boy would sit in the back. Of. Fucking. Course.

The boy's mouth moved, and Jean blinked at him in confusion. "What?" He said lifting his eyebrows. It looked like the other boy chuckled and he pointed to his ears, a simple smile on his lips. Jean cocked his head to the side slightly trying to understand. Slowly, his lifted his hand up to his ear. Sudden realization rushed through him and he broke eye contact with the boy across the aisle for the first time since he had gotten on the bus. He gave the cords to his earphones a tug and they fell into his lap. "S-Sorry." He stuttered after a moment, feeling the warmth in his face as it flushed bright red.

This was why he hated meeting people. He always did stupid shit. Always. Way to go Jean, you idiot. Make a horse's ass of yourself. Good job.

A throaty chuckle came from the seat next to his, but now that he had pulled his eyes away from the other boy's he could not manage to make himself look back. "It's alright. I forget about that, too." There was an odd moment of silence where Jean wished he could disappear right then and there. "Um, sorry, I'm new here. My family had an unexpected move and I just transferred to your school. Today is my first day." The boy sounded nervous, but not unpleasant. In fact, he came off as really friendly.

Jean forced his eyes back over in the the dark haired boy's direction and again felt his stomach flip flopping about. The boy had pushed back his black hair, which was parted down the center, and was giving him the perfect view of honey brown eyes. They were warm, inviting, and had a rather distinctive flecked pattern around the iris. Jean would know those eyes anywhere, but how had this kid managed to wind up in his dreams? Well, his eyes at least. Another wave of heat washed across his face.

"My name is Marco."

"Uh- ah, um.." Jean fidgeted grasping for words. For fuck's sake, Kirschtein! Get it together! It took him another moment before he realized Marco had extended his hand across the aisle. He took it and gave it a firm shake before forcing himself to look up. "I'm Jean. Nice to meet you, Marco."

"My pleasure, really!" The boy sounded delighted and it was infectious. Jean could not help but grin at the other boy's audible smile. "So, what grade are you in? You look like you might be a senior, too."

Jean nodded as he wound the cable for his headphones around his iPod to keep it all together, not to mention he would have an excuse not to make eye contact with Marco for a while.

"Oh, great! Maybe we will have class together! That would be nice, don't you think?"

It would be the most distracting thing to ever happen to me. Not to mention I am nearly failing all of my classes as is.

Jean nodded again and Marco laughed. It was rich and genuine. Not the kind of laugh that meant he was making fun of Jean. He could tell right away that Marco was not that kind of person. His smile was earnest and made those damnable intoxicating eyes crinkle at the corners. Jean felt his heart clench.

"You don't talk much, do you, Jean?" He said, settling into his seat and pulling his bag onto his lap. "My friends at my old school used to tell me I talk to much." Suddenly, worry infected every part of the dark haired boy's face. "Oh, but you will tell me if I talk too much, right?"

Jean chanced another look and regretted it instantly. The obvious concern on Marco's face made him lean closer to the boy. "It's fine. You can talk as much as you want." It was quiet and Jean surprised himself with the softness in his tone. "Um- I mean, I'm not your babysitter or anything. I don't care if you ramble. I could always just put my headphones back on or something, you know..." It was a lame cover, and he knew it all came tumbling out at once, but it seemed to do the trick.

The smile was back on Marco's face and Jean had to turn away yet again. For the rest of the bus ride, which was not long, Marco asked Jean about his schedule. Several quick peeks at Marco's neat print in his planner and they surmised that they would have lunch together, and math in sixth period. The bus pulled up to the ramp as Marco set his planner back into his bag, which seemed to actually be organized. Jean's never stayed that way for more than an hour.

"Well then, if you don't mind, I will find you at lunch."

"Yeah. Have a good day, Marco." Jean said, standing as the bus came to a stop and sliding into the aisle. Unfortunately, the kid two rows in front of them had left his bag sticking out in the path a little too far. Everything happened so fast. One minute he was upright and walking towards the door, the next pain was radiating from his face. His vision swam as he felt himself being tugged into a sitting position.

"He's bleeding! His nose is bleeding!" It sounded far away and Jean wasn't sure but he thought it was Marco. He felt warmth on his cheek then pressure on his chest and arms. "I will take him to the nurse- erm... Where is the nurse?" Someone looped his arm over their neck as they pulled his bag off of his arm. He groaned once on his feet and let his head swing in the direction of the foggy form who held him up.

"Hold on just a little while, Jean, we are taking you to the nurse." The awkward shuffling to the front of the bus was the worst, just after Marco nearly having to carry him down the fucking steps. It was a good thing that he was delirious with the pain or he would have been embarrassed, well, more embarrassed. Honestly, as they walked down the hall towards the nurses office, all Jean could think about was that Marco was warm until somewhere in the back of his cotton stuffed head he heard himself remark on how toned his arms were.

"Not much longer, I see the office. Jesus, Jean, are you really going to be okay? How can you smile with that much blood on your face?"

Jean could hardly make his eyes open far enough to see the look of worry on the taller boy's face. Reaching up, Jean tapped the slightly upturned freckled nose in front of his bloody face before letting out a little hiccup of a giggle that sounded more like a garbled grunt. Then the world suddenly went dark.


	3. Chapter 3

The school nurse's office was probably the cleanest place that Marco had ever seen in his life. It smelled so strongly of rubbing alcohol and Clorox that you could catch the fragrance halfway down the hall. Everything was immaculate. It looked like whoever had stocked the glass shelves along the back wall was proudly displaying small treasures. The desk at the front was void of anything that was not absolutely necessary. The computer monitor was off and a single pen sat at the top of the keyboard. Marco had not expected the nurse to be in yet, even though he had hoped. Most people waited until after the first bell to injure themselves badly enough to go to the nurse. Jean had not even made it to the warning bell.

Jean was heavy and it was taking nearly all of Marco's strength to keep both of them upright. It took nearly everything he had to drag him to the chair by the end up of the desk and lower him down slowly into the seat. Jean's nose had stopped bleeding so much by now. Marco sighed, looking at the wreck that was the other boy's face. Turning about to take in the small office space, he located the sink and walked over so that he could wet some towels. He grabbed a handful of dry ones, as well, in case Jean woke up. The process of getting the blood off the blond boy's face was messy. The wet paper towels just seemed to smear around the blood instead of soaking it up. After a bit of persistence, Marco managed to get most of the caked blood off, but it was becoming rather apparent that the damage to his nose was going to cause Jean to have, at least, one black eye.

"When you take a fall, you really hit hard, don't you?" The smile on the boy's lips looked more empathetic than happy. Marco could not keep himself from gently touching the bridge of Jean's nose where his face had connected with the bus seat. "It really is a shame you did that to yourself." Letting out a breath he did not know he had been holding, Marco leaned back on his feet as he crouched in front of the chair and studied the unconscious form before him. "You look so different when you sleep. You don't have that sour face you always insist on wearing." He chuckled a little bit to himself and rocked backwards while pushing himself up into a standing position in front of the chair.

Swift footsteps could be heard approaching the office. The unmistakeable rhythm of boot heels clicking on the linoleum in the hall fell quickly and with purpose. The door opened swiftly to admit a small, dark haired man with slight, delicate features. In stark contrast to the pretty face, the man's eyes were unamused and sunken in. Dark circles ringed gray orbs that studied Marco almost lazily. Even though the man was much shorter than Marco, he felt himself grow small and insignificant in that gaze.

"This early? Seriously?" The quiet voice swept the room like velvet but left Marco feeling as if he had been rubbed raw with sandpaper.

If Marco had been able to attend his classes for a few days, he would have heard the rumors about the school nurse. The small, beautiful man who sat in the office and never let anyone go home unless they were dying. He would have heard about the rumors that said if you went to the nurse without a real reason that the terrifying man that passed for a nurse would give you one. He would have heard that the man had mafia ties, that he was not afraid to call your parents and tell them that you attempted to get out of class, or to tell them that you had been fighting.

"Please tell me that the bloody mess in my chair is not Kirchstein."

"Um, I'm not sure who that is, sir. I know that his first name is Jean. We just met this morning, sir." He wasn't sure why, but he added the "sir" instinctively. The older man didn't seem to notice, or really even care. The nurse gave a little snort as he walked over to the slumped form and peered down at him.

"Another fight, I assume? What, did you feel guilty for beating him up and take pity on him by dragging him into my office or something?"

"Uh, no sir. He wasn't fighting. He fell on the bus. Is it broken, sir?"

The man raised a single thin eyebrow and reached out to feel at the bridge of Jean's nose. Thin fingers pinched at where the bruising and swelling had begun to set in.  
"Hm. No, I don't think it is. He is going to have one hell of a headache and some trouble opening his eyes for the rest of the day." Turning and walking to his desk as if Jean no longer existed, he pulled out his small swivel chair and sat down, pulling his knees up to his chest and hitting the power button on the computer tower below.

For several long minutes, the only sound in the nurses office was the mechanical whirring of the computer starting up. As the monitor flickered and turned on, the nurse spoke again. "You know, I prefer him this way. With his mouth and eyes shut. He doesn't look constipated and he isn't spewing shit."

Marco stared at the petite man behind the desk. He had never heard a teacher swear before. He didn't even try to apologize. Was the school nurse considered a teacher? Not to mention, did the school nurse just use toilet humor?

"I'm guessing you are still here because you need a hall pass?" As Marco was about to shake his head the first bell rang out in the hall. He stilled himself and bit at his bottom lip as he looked down at the freakishly clean tile. "Well?" The voice from behind the desk came again sounding agitated now. "What is your name? You must be new here or you wouldn't have bothered toting this horse-faced shitmonger into my office" This time the man chuckled at the wince Marco gave.

"It's Marco Bodt, sir." He looked up at the nurse, who had opened a drawer in his desk and had produced a small notebook that held the perforated hall passes. "Sir, if it isn't too much trouble, can I wait until he wakes up?"

The man stopped in the middle of reaching towards his pen to fill in the slip, allowing his eyes to roam upwards and to focus on the taller dark haired boy. "Why?"

"Well, he is tall and pretty heavy. I have a feeling he is going to have some problems walking when he comes around. When he wakes up, he will either need help out when someone picks him up, or help to his class."

The smile that appeared on the nurse's face was highly amused, and somehow simultaneously annoyed. "You've got guts, brat. If you are willing to be in close proximity to that filthy bastard, far be it from me to stop you."

A small grunt from the chair Jean occupied caused both the nurse and Marco to turn and look in the direction of the unconscious boy. The sight caused Marco's face to drain of all blood, leaving tiny dark splotches on his pale skin, and the shorter man's face to darken in anger. Jean, who was obviously still out cold, had his hand down the front of his pants.

The nurse moved faster than Marco could have thought humanly possible. A loud smack sounded though the room as a folder, that appeared out of no where, connected solidly with Jean's face.

* * *

Jean's eyes flew open as an involuntarily yelp was torn from his throat. His hands instinctively jerked up towards his face but for some reason only one managed to make it. Looking down in confusion he realized the position he was in.

EVERY TIME?! Every time I fall asleep?! Seriously?! He pulled his hand out of his pants, looking rather embarrassed. Who knew how many times he had managed to look like a little bitch this morning.

"What the hell, shitstain? You are at school! Go home to beat it, or at least hide out in the fucking bathroom, you freak. My office is not the place for you to get your rocks off!"  
"For fuck's sake, Levi! I was asleep!" Jean snapped back, glaring at the small man who stood before him with his arms crossed.

"I don't give a flying fuck! If you touch your junk in my office ever again, I will have Hanji remove it!" The man's voice was level, but Jean got the feeling he meant every word.

As Jean's nerves wound down, the ache began to set in. "What the hell happened?" He said, reaching up to touch the tender skin on the bridge of his nose. A shrug and a little motion from Levi caused Jean to turn his attention towards the door of the nurse's office. A very red and flustered Marco stood there, trying to look like he had not seen anything out of the ordinary. The look of dread that spread across Jean's face told him that he was not doing a very good job of it.

"Oh, god. Levi, please kill me." The words came out so quiet that Jean was not sure if Levi would be able to hear him. The roar of laughter that escaped the once stoic man told him otherwise.

"Um, I- I'm glad you're alright." Marco stuttered in Jean's direction before turning quickly to Levi. "Can I maybe get that hall pass now?"

"I thought you said you would help him to-"

"Nevermind. I'm not that late." Marco said and quickly slipped out into the hallway.

It took until the bell that signaled the end of first period for Levi's giggle fits to stop and for Jean to summon up the courage to leave. The day was just beginning and he could already tell he would rather have died last night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has not gotten the same kind of editing as the past ones and will be modified over the next few days. Sorry for any bumbles. Thank you so much for taking your time to read my silly story. 
> 
> Lots of Love.

Jean sat in second period barely able to hold himself up. The crushing weight of embarrassment from this morning just kept getting heavier and heavier. The bruises were fairly normal for him, but being caught choking it in front of Levi was only topped by the fact that Marco had also seen him. Just once I would like to catch a break. For fucks sake I just met the guy and he must think I am some sex crazed douchebag. Fuck!

Jean nearly had accident number two that morning with the sudden appearance of his crazy science teacher's face practically appearing out of no where in front of him. He had been rocking on the back two legs of his chair as he was thinking and evidently missed a question.

“JEAN! You can tell the speed at which the Earth rockets around the sun, right?”

If there was ever a science teacher who deserved the title “Mad Scientist” it would be Hanji Zoe. She was the most eccentric person in the state, maybe even the whole friggin' world for all Jean was concerned. Not to mention she seemed to be best friends with that charming asshole of a nurse. “I bet it is pretty close to the speed your face was going when it hit the back of that seat on the bus!” The onslaught of laughter that escaped the tall woman was enough to nearly knock Jean out of his seat for the second time that day. 

She always wore a lab coat, this one was black with little stars and Galaxies embroidered on haphazardly. Jean imagined she was the one to do them since they were far from well executed. Her glasses were a brown tortoise shell pattern and were constantly on the verge of falling off until Levi had finally gotten her a band that held them in place on her head. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail save for her bangs that hung loosely around her face. 

“Haha, Yeah, I am sure. Thanks Ms. Zoe.” The lack of enthusiasm in his voice was lost on Hanji who patted his back, perhaps a little harder than she thought she was, and wiped at her watery eyes. 

“Ah, yes. That was good. Very good.” She said with another chuckle before walking back towards the main demonstration table in the front of the lecture room. 

Jean hated this class more than anything. The teacher was insane and always let slip whatever he had been doing to the rest of the class. The room constantly smelled of formaldehyde and he was sure that there was always something questionable in the the jars that sat along the back wall of the classroom. Those were Hanji's personal arsenal to make you uncomfortable. The rumor was that she had once kept students after school instead of sending them to detention. Their punishment was instead to help her with her own weird experiments. The school board had finally put a stop to that when the twelfth student had passed out in her “private lessons”. It made Jean shudder. 

Luckily for him after her bit of daily harassment she went back to the lecture that Jean had not bothered to take notes on anyway. In fact the rest of the class he sat trying to think of something to Marco at much that would not make him feel like a total fuck up. When the bell rang he had come up with a grand total of none. 

Except lighting himself on fire and laying down in the middle of the school. Burn away all the anxiety. I wish I had balls enough to do that...

The rest of the day passed altogether too quickly. Much sooner than he wished he found himself standing at the entrance to the cafeteria. FUCK! Why do I even care? The image of those honey brown orbs drifted into his mind and he felt his chest tighten. They normally made him want to rush forward, but the look in them this time made him want to turn away. Embarrassment was so evident in that gaze that it bore into him and made him squirm. 

“Yo, Horse-face, why the hell are you standing in the middle of the hall?” 

Just the sound of that voice was enough to bring Jean out of his day dream. He turned, his fists already clenched. “Shut the fuck up Jaeger! It is none of your fucking business! I will stand wherever the hell I want!”

“Oh, Jesus, man, who beat the shit out of you this time?” Eren Jaeger, the one person Jean really could have done without seeing today stood a few feet away. He had brown hair that parted down the middle. His eyes were enormous and a weird blue-green color most of the girls in the school seemed to really enjoy. He was flanked, per usual, by his two best friends. Armin Arlet was a small boy with intelligent blue eyes that seemed to notice, even record, every little detail. He was always pleasant though. If Jean could call anyone at this school a friend it would be Armin. He had always enjoyed the small blonde's company. If only Armin wasn't attached at the hip with Eren.

Armin gave Jean a friendly smile and little wave. “Good morning, Jean.”

Jean returned the greeting with a lazy lifted hand in greeting. 

On Eren's left side stood the once long-time object of Jean's affection. He had tried in vain to sway Mikasa Ackerman to his side but it had become more and more obvious as the years passed that she had no interest in him and he had given up sometime last year. She was pretty, Her dark hair and eyes set in lightly tinted skin. She wore her usual look of disinterest above the always present red scarf. Jean could not remember a time that he had not seen her with the red material draped around her shoulders.

“Eren, come on, I'm hungry.” She said pushing past her two companions and walking by Jean without a second glance. Eren shrugged and looked back at Armin before heading on into the clamoring mass of high schoolers. Jean watched them disappear into the throng before running a hand nervously through his hair. He knew if he stalled for too much longer he would not have time to eat anything at all. After pausing for just a few more moments he set off into the lunch line. 

To make things worse they were serving the one thing he hated most. “Great! Meatloaf.” Normal meatloaf was fine. This stuff, this was congealed meat with what looked like peas mushed in there from time to time. This was slip for pigs at best. 

“Ah, there you are. I, um, I got lost on the way here.” 

Jean froze and turned slowly towards the nervous voice behind him. “Oh, it's um... It's not a problem Marco.” He noticed the boy was a bright red. He was holding a tray with the horrible-loaf and was staring down at the sad excuse for food intently. “I honestly thought you were going to bail on me after- Well after this morning...”

Slowly Marco let his eyes drift up to meet Jean's and a little gasp escaped him. “Oh, God, Jean. That bus seat really did a number on you, didn't it?” All of his anxiousness from a moment ago seemed to dissolve and Jean could see him adjust in that instant. As Marco relaxed he felt his own shoulder fall into more comfortable positions. The knots in his muscles from earlier in the day unwound. A smile found his lips as a chuckle rumbled up from his chest. 

“Ah, yeah, I guess it did.” Jean grabbed a soda from one of the refrigerators along the line, remembering that his mother had packed him lunch that morning and fell in alongside Marco as they shuffled along the line to the cash register.

Lunch went by far better than he could imagine. Jean spent most of the time talking about the teachers here at the school and what to expect from some of them. Marco had Hanji for chemistry fifth period and he did not want to send the poor boy off to that mad house without a debriefing. The bell inevitably sounded and both boys picked up their trays and headed towards the trash cans at the end of the lunch hall. 

“Well then, Marco, good luck with the evil scientist.” Jean said as he waved to Marco turning to walk away on to his own class.

“Hey Jean, don't worry, ok? I have totally forgotten about the nurses office. It never happened, alright?” 

That caught Jean off guard and his steps stuttered. Turning to look over his shoulder he saw Marco slipping off into the crowded hall in the direction of the science lab. It was obviously meant to put him at ease, and normally those words would do just the opposite for him. He was cynical, and rarely believed wen people apologized to him for anything, much less let something awfully embarrassing slide. He couldn't explain the calm and contentment that spread through him as those words sunk into him, but he felt like he might have finally found answer to a question he had been asking for so long that he had forgotten about it completely.


End file.
